Dinner Date
by Rainey13
Summary: A "missing scene" from the Season 3 episode "Deadline" - Diana and Neal consider what their double-date dinner really meant.


"I still can't believe you did that."

Christie looked up from the screen of her laptop as her partner came into the bedroom. "Did what, Di?"

Diana sighed as she pulled her pajamas out of the drawer. "Invited Caffrey over here."

"What, you agreed to the date night."

"Yeah, but here?"

Christie shrugged. "He actually invited us to his place, but he said he didn't have a very big kitchen."

Diana considered that for a moment. It was true that Neal's apartment itself only had a kitchenette. "His landlady has a huge kitchen."

"Maybe he didn't want to bother her?"

"Maybe."

"Di, he was perfectly charming."

"That's his stock and trade. He's a con man."

"That risotto was to die for."

_It __was__ really good…_ "It used illegal cheese," she argued, rather weakly, starting to undress.

"Are you going to turn him in for that?"

"It could be dangerous!"

"I'm a doctor, Di. I know the risks of unpasteurized dairy – which, for healthy adults, is pretty low, especially when it's cooked."

"All right, I'll let him slide on the cheese."

"So what's really bothering you?"

_Oh, maybe the idea that Neal might have engineered the whole thing to look for a certain Nazi sub art manifest…_ "Did he do anything… suspicious?"

Christie laughed. "Like what?"

"Steal the silverware?"

"Di, we have stainless steel."

"The paintings?"

"You mean the _prints_ on the walls? Wouldn't he know the difference?"

Diana nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "He definitely would."

"Honestly, Di, he and Sara showed up with groceries and wine in hand. We opened a bottle of wine – which was excellent, by the way. We talked for a bit, then I showed him around the kitchen and he started cooking. Wouldn't even let Sara or me help prep anything."

"And he was never out of your sight?"

"Well, he did ask to use the bathroom at one point, and I didn't follow him." Christie stopped and gasped, rather theatrically. "I never checked after that! What if he… what if he stole some of our collection of hotel toiletries?"

Diana laughed as she slid into bed. "Yeah, because that would just be _so_ Caffrey." She leaned over for a quick kiss. "We can do an inventory in the morning. If so much as a single tiny shampoo is missing, I'll get out the thumb screws."

Christie logged off the computer and set the laptop on the nightstand. "Seriously, Di, what's bothering you? It looked like you were having fun."

_Maybe that was the problem – she __did__ have fun. And with Caffrey, letting one's guard down could be dangerous._ She shrugged. "I guess I'm suspicious by nature – risk of the job."

"And you don't like Neal."

"I _like_ him just fine." _Which was true. He could be funny, and helpful…_ "I just don't trust him." She hesitated, reaching for Christie's hand. "He is the one who sent someone to break in here."

"He's also the one who got us the security system we have now, which you said was top of the line," Christie pointed out.

"It is," Diana conceded.

"And he apologized?"

"Multiple times."

"Well, I enjoyed getting to know him. And I liked Sara." Christie looked over at Diana. "They really met because he stole a painting?"

"Well, he _says_ he was framed, and a jury did acquit him," Diana replied. "But yeah, he took it."

"Interesting relationship."

"At least he's finally moving on past Kate," Diana mused. "You remember the case I came back to New York for."

"How could I forget? She was on a plane that blew up, right?"

"Yeah." _And maybe that had been when she'd really started to like, and understand, Neal – that open, raw, honest moment at the hotel during their political campaign case when he'd talked about Kate, and how it should have been him on the plane…_

Christie settled back against the pillows. "Well, I like him."

"Ah, the Caffrey charm fells another one."

"There's nothing wrong with being charming."

"Wait, did he flirt with you?"

"Maybe a little."

"Are you leaving me for him?"

Christie laughed and turned off the light on her side of the bed. "I didn't say I was interested. But it doesn't hurt to know that a good looking guy thinks I'm hot."

"You _are_ hot."

Christie rolled to her side, pulling her partner in closer. "And that's the only opinion that really matters to me," she said, offering a kiss. "Are you really upset that I invited Neal and Sara over?"

Diana shook her head as she reached over to turn off the other light. "No. And you're right, I had a good time. It was just a long day." She snuggled in close to Christie, their arms intertwining.

_It __had__ been a good dinner – and yes, the company had been pleasant. She didn't even really mind that Neal had managed to find out how she and Christie met._

_Besides, the art manifest was long gone from the apartment…_

* * *

><p>In the end, he didn't go over to Sara's. He did call, and they made arrangements to meet the next night – at her place. There was less likelihood of unexpected visitors at inopportune moments that way. <em>Because Neal had finally come clean and told her how Mozzie had beaten the security keypad…<em>

But without Sara to distract him – pleasantly – he was left with a long night alone after Mozzie left. And that meant plenty of time to think.

The dinner party…

Yeah, he'd started the idea of getting together because he wanted something. He wanted the manifest page he was sure Diana had. And if that meant playing her girlfriend to his advantage – well, that's what con men did.

_Except…_

Except Christie had welcomed him so warmly. Had been so gracious and friendly, and appreciative of his culinary offering. So open about sharing information…

But even once he knew it was too late, that Diana had met with Melissa Matthews, that a copy of the manifest had been passed on, there was one inescapable fact that he had to accept.

He'd had a good time.

Watching Diana and Christie, obviously so much in love. Sharing his new, and largely undefined, relationship with Sara with them. Laughing _with_ them as they talked about Sara's profession and his – _former_ – calling. Joking about pottery class, and the bowl that was supposed to be round. Dissecting – and devouring – the key lime tarts Christie had made for dessert. Laughing as they stumbled over each other while they all tried to clean up and put dishes away in the apartment kitchen.

In short, being treated like a friend.

Of course, Mozzie was his friend too. And it hadn't been easy to admit that not only had Diana already passed on a copy to Matthews, but that he hadn't seen a sign of the original in the apartment. The only place it could have been, if Diana hadn't already moved it, was in the bedroom, and he hadn't had a chance to get in there.

_But you did try, didn't you, Neal?_

That had been Mozzie's question when Neal admitted the failure. And as he stood on the balcony, looking out over the city lights, Neal had to think about that question again.

Oh, he'd answered that of course he had tried. And why would Mozzie suggest anything else?

_But, in all honesty, __had__ he tried? When Sara and Christie had been busy over wine and a huge selection of music to choose from, and he had excused himself to go to the bathroom, couldn't he have made a quick reconnaissance of the bedroom? If he had wanted to…_

And that was the heart of the question right there. Because _of course_ he wanted to be free of the anklet. Free of the restrictive rules the FBI imposed. Free from Peter's supervision…

_Of course he wanted to be free._

_Didn't he?_


End file.
